


It'll be a beautiful picture

by hopefor46



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Ad Read Fic, Multi, OT3, Office
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 20:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13107759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefor46/pseuds/hopefor46
Summary: Jon and Lovett give Tommy an ad to read.





	It'll be a beautiful picture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halfalump](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfalump/gifts).



They decide to wait until the last week before Christmas. At the end of the day, Lovett sees Tommy get up from his desk and looks over at Jon, gives a little nod. Jon clears his throat.

“Wait, Tommy, before you get out of here, we have one more ad read to get through.”

“Favreau, are you fucking serious.”

“Yep, sorry, just one more we didn’t put in the marathon session this morning. My bad.” Tommy rolls his eyes. Jon pinches his own thigh to try and keep himself from smirking.

“Am I the only one who cares about work-life balance around here?” He probably is, but Jon’s not going to entertain an argument that could spoil the fun.

“Sure, Tommy,” Lovett says, sticking his lip out. He’s always been a better actor than Jon. “You’re just going to go home to your dog anyway.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Pundit Is An Angel and now everyone on Twitter has to know about it.”

Jon often finds himself in this corner, placating both of them. At least he and Lovett know this is just a game. “Listen, we’ll do this one ad take real quick and then we’ll all go home, Postmates dinner and play with our dogs. Okay, kids?”

“Fine,” huffs Tommy, setting his messenger bag back down. The three of them hop into the studio as normal.

Jon can see all of Tommy’s feelers are up, searching for irregularities.

“Wait, where’s Tanya and everyone?”

Jon let them clear out early for staff happy hour--Tanya with the Crooked credit card--but Tommy was not privy to that conversation either.

“Tanya’s been teaching me to run the equipment, so I can handle it.” Jon busies himself with cables and the production laptop. None of the tech will actually be recording, of course. No need to cause a scandal.

Tommy takes his usual seat on camera right with Lovett in the middle. They’d talked about trying to change the seating, but that would only make him more suspicious. Lovett hands each of them a script, just like normal.

“Hm, this one’s for PSA,” Tommy notes. “Losing your will, Jon?” Jon shrugs and tries to look humble.

“The advertiser liked the ones you’ve been doing for Pod Save the World. So, let’s try it.”

“Ohhhkay,” Tommy says, a little sassy. Luckily, his frustration with his best friends is preventing him from picking up the way Jon and Lovett have been looking at each other since 3:30, when Lovett popped up in Jon’s private Slack:

_\--When are we giving Tommy his present_

_\--Can we make it today_

Jon swears his hand shook a little as he sent back a GIF of Jack Donaghy flashing the double thumbs up.

It wasn’t even Lovett’s idea to begin with, but he’s the better actor, so Jon’s relying on him to get the show started.

“Wait, wait. Before we start.”

“ _Lovett_ ,” says Tommy, starting to lose his patience.

“We want to try a thing,” Lovett says, dropping his voice just so. When Lovett talks quietly they both know to pay attention. The man was born at 11.

“In the ad…”

“You could say so.” Lovett very obviously turns to Jon and smirks. They both turn back to Tommy.

“A… thing?”

“Tommy. Wouldn’t you agree you’re _so_ good at reading the ads?”

“I…” Tommy looks at Jon for clarification. Jon knows he’s probably starting to blush at the tips of his ears. He thinks about the stack of invoices on his desk to attempt to keep his face neutral.

(“If you give this away in your face, Favs, I swear to fucking God,” Lovett had said the other night when they were plotting. Well, talking. No, definitely plotting.)

“Even when we _distract_ you,” Lovett continues on, relishing his role, “you’re always _so_ good. So we made you a little test.”

Jon clears his throat. “If you can finish this ad, you can decide what we do next.”

“What--but--” Tommy’s eyes flick between them. Two red dots appear high in his cheeks. “I mean, I get that there’s some sort of--”

Lovett leans over and puts his left hand on Tommy’s thigh. “You’re gonna read this ad,” he says softly but decisively, “and we’ll do what we want.” He leans over and kisses Tommy under his jaw, that place he really likes.

Tommy’s already turning red. Jon coughs and very obviously gets up and walks to the door, turning the bolt they almost never use.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Jon says low. Lovett’s leaning over Tommy, still kissing him. He drops to his knees next to Tommy’s chair.

“Okay,” Tommy says tightly. He stares at his paper as if it’s a substance he’s never seen before. Jon can tell by his expression that he’s trying to absorb as much of the copy as possible before his mind is otherwise occupied. Always a planner, that one.

“Pod Save America,” Tommy starts with a little wobble, “is brought to you by Texture.” The faint sound of Lovett working Tommy’s zipper open would normally be picked up on mic. It seems loud, momentous.

“The only app that offers unlim--” Tommy shivers suddenly and Jon knows without looking that Lovett’s taken him in hand. “--Unlimited access to over 200 magazines, including _People_ , _The Atlantic_ and _TIME_.” He rushes towards the end of the sentence, and Jon knows Lovett’s started to move.

Would it be crazy if he ducked under the table? If Tommy ever lets them do it again, maybe they should both be under there. But then who would get to watch Tommy completely fall apart?

Tommy’s wiggling around in his seat, which makes Lovett crazy. “Right now,” he continues, a little more in his throat, “you can try Texture for free. After that it’s--just--” He looks over at Jon, desperate, feverish. Jon nods at him, knowing his own eyes are bright and sharp, that he barely feels in control.

“--Just--nine--ninety-nine a month.” It’s rare that Jon gets to just enjoy him like this.

“That’s over 30 percent off the listed-- _price_?” Tommy’s voice goes high and his mouth drops open, and Jon knows Lovett’s mouth has found his cock. Tommy keeps leaning but jerkily brings his head back down, determined, hands gripping the edge of the table.

Jon doesn’t miss a beat. “What,” he demands low, “are you going to read, Tommy?”

Maybe they underestimated how hot this would be. Ever since the first time he saw Tommy blush and grow hot in front of the curtains, turning so beautifully red, laughing so hard he threw his head back and closed his eyes. The blue curtains made his flush so… exquisite. It made Jon want to see it again. To cause it.

Lovett had seen it too. “Our Tommy’s really making the pivot to video well,” he muttered one day Tommy was out interview prepping.

Jon shoved him back good-naturedly, letting his hand linger on his bicep a minute. “You’ve been leaning into it yourself.”

Now Jon can only see the top of Lovett’s head with the table in the way, but the wet sounds of him taking Tommy in, torturing him, paint their own picture.

Tommy groans low and continues, “ _TIME_ and _The Economist_ will contain detailed--” another groan--“analyses of the tax bill.”

He’s in that dead monotone register he used to use when he was extremely uncomfortable at a press briefing. Still, the way Lovett’s taking him apart, he soon won’t be able to get more than a few words in.

“Then I’ll--” Tommy lets his head drop back a second and Jon honestly thinks he’s going to lose it. “Look--at-- _People_ \--” The word emerges a gasp but neither Jon nor Lovett are going to reprimand him. Tommy’s knuckles are white, he’s gripping the table so hard. “--For-the-pictures-of-the-people,” he finishes, shaky.

How could Jon think, even as the mastermind, that he was just going to watch?

Tommy gives out a high whine when Jon leans over his left shoulder to pick up in the copy.

“You don’t want to read that on your phone,” he says, cupping Tommy’s shoulders with his hands, sliding them down Tommy’s sides. From here he can see Lovett’s head and hand at work, can see how he’s holding Tommy’s thighs in place even as Tommy’s hips are starting to jerk and sway.

“You--should--” Tommy loses his place, fuck -- “read it on Texture.” His breath is starting to whistle faintly as he draws it in faster. Jon stops dropping kisses all over Tommy’s neck, even though it feels so good, and leans into the microphone. He slides his hands down to Tommy’s waist, lifts his shirt a little.

His own voice comes out a whisper. “It’ll be a beautiful picture on that Texture app.”

“So go,” Tommy gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head, “to Texture dot com slash -- crooked to start your free trial todayyyyyy.” He draws the word out long, with little hiccups in it where his breath breaks through. Jon can’t help rolling his hips against the back of the chair, feeling Tommy race towards the finish. He wishes he could both be this close to him, holding him, and sitting at his usual spot enjoying him fall apart. Wonders if Tommy would ever let them tape it so he could watch.

“That’s texture--” Tommy moans heavy and Jon knows without looking that he’s coming. “Dotcomslashcrooked.” He drops his head to the table.

For a moment, no one breathes. Then Jon croaks, “Crooked.” Just like in the script. Lovett had insisted on this part, and Jon just went along with it because why explain?

“Crooked,” Lovett mumbles, somewhere in the neighborhood of Tommy’s thighs.

“Christ,” Tommy says, rolling his head around a little. Favs stands up behind him and slips his hands down to his shoulders, working his thumbs into the back of Tommy’s neck. Letting him relax.

Favs bends and says low in his ear, “Good job.” Tommy works so hard, always wanting to please everybody. Sometimes he doesn’t ask loud enough for what he needs.

Lovett’s hands appear on the table as he pulls himself up off the floor. He looks a little wobbly, his eyes starting to get that particular focus when he’s only thinking about one thing.

“You know,” Lovett says, “we were going to let you do what you wanted anyway.”

“But we never doubted your professionalism,” Jon says. Tommy looks up, so red faced, but with a little smile.

“Not TommyJohn?” he finally says when he catches his breath.

“That seemed like a--” Lovett coughs --“like giving the house too many odds.”

“Stacking the deck,” says Jon.

“Counting the cards,” Lovett says. He’s getting back to almost normal, somehow faster than Jon is.

“So I still get,” Tommy gasps, “to decide?”

Jon catches Tommy’s face in his hands. “Whatever you want.” And he means it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to halfalump for this idea. I'm on DayQuil and I did not proof this, adjust your expectations accordingly. 
> 
> Ad copy lightly edited from 10/30/17 PSA “Indictments!” The titular line is straight from the ad, unfortunately for all of us.


End file.
